


Permanent Sentence

by Yer_Erster



Series: Five Times Jack Went to the Refuge & One Time He Didn't [1]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Abuse, Baby Jack - Freeform, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mamma Medda, The Refuge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 13:02:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16598417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yer_Erster/pseuds/Yer_Erster
Summary: The first time Jack got sent to the refuge, it was supposed to be permanent.





	Permanent Sentence

 

* * *

 

“Up and at ‘em, kid.”

Jack groaned as the thin morning light assaulted his senses and pulled him out of his rather comfortable dream.  It had been nice. There had been so many stars and so much open space. “Already?” Jack mumbled as he sat up, doing his best to rub the sleep out of his eyes. _Mornin’s are the worst._ He thought with a yawn.

“Yer gonna be late if ya don’t get a move on.” His Da was already awake and dressed, staring out of their sole window with a tired look. _Da always looked tired_ , Jack thought. _Ever since Ma left._ Jack tried to ignore how distant Da had gotten lately. It had been even worse right after Ma had just up and left one morning, leaving nothing but a short note that read, _I can’t do this. I’m sorry._

Da had disappeared for days after that, always coming home just as the sun was coming up, sleeping all day, and smelling like the strange loud men Jack saw on street corners late at night. It had been one really awful morning when Da had stumbled loudly into the apartment, grabbed Jack by the scruff of his neck, and thrown him out the door, shouting that it was high time Jack started to pull his weight. Dazed, confused, and shoeless, Jack had wandered out of the building not having a clue about what he could possibly do to “pull his weight.” Whatever that meant.

The first lucky break Jack got in his young life came in the form of an older boy on the street corner, yelling out “Extra, extra! Trolley derails in Harlem! 3 killed, dozens hurt!” Jack watched the boy for a moment before being noticed. “Hey, kid.” The boy called. “You alright?” Jack found himself unable to move as the boy came closer. “Where’s your shoes at?”

“Inside.” Jack said, seeing no point in lying. Besides, he got a good feeling from this kid. He had kind eyes. _Like Ma’s._

“Well why’se you outside wit’out them?”

“Da.” Jack said simply.

The boy’s eyes hardened. “Why?”

Jack shrugged. “I dunno. He’s been real grumpy since Ma left. Said I needed to pull my weight. ‘Cept I’se not sure what that means.”

“Means he wants you to start workin’.” the boy said. “How old’re you?”

“Five.”

“Jesus…” The boy muttered under his breath. “Well come on then. I think Scratch might have a spare pair ‘a boots back at the lodging house. They’se probably a bit big, but that don’t really matter if you tie ‘em on tight enough.”

“But Da said I gotta-”

“If you wanna earn money, no better way than sellin’ papes.” The kid smiled. “You can sell wit’ me if you’d like”

“Ok.”

“Name’s Blue, by the way.”

“I’se Jack.”

“Nice to meet you, Jack. Let’s go meet the rest ‘a the fellas.”

Da hadn’t said a word about Jack’s new boots when he crept back into the apartment after a long day selling papers with Blue and his friend Freckles, but he had woken him up the next morning with a whole bagel all for him.

The next morning, Jack met Blue on the corner, and just like that, five year-old Jack Kelly had become the newest newsie of Lower Manhattan. He had spent the next two years learning everything he possibly could about the big city from the older boys. Like where the cheapest places to grab a bite to eat were, what sort of people were guaranteed to buy a pape, and even how to throw a punch when necessary. Now at seven years old, Jack was pleased to say that he was pulling his weight and loving every minute of it.

“Get up. Now, Jack.” Da’s exasperated voice broke Jack out of his wandering thoughts.

“A’ight, a’ight, I’se gettin’.” Jack grumbled as he pushed himself to his feet. He then made to go towards the small cabinet in the corner before his dad stopped him.

“Sorry boy, empty still.” There hadn’t been food in the apartment for several days, and Jack’s hollow stomach grumbled in protest.

With a disappointed sigh, Jack traipsed back to his corner of the room to pull on his suspenders and waistcoat before turning back to face his dad. “You wants me ta get somethin’ after I’se done sellin’ today?”

“Don’ worry ‘bout it, Jackie.” Da said tiredly. “I’ll take care ‘a it.”

“A’ight, Da.” Jack shrugged before yanking his slightly too large boots on, being sure to tie them extra tight. _I’ll just hurry an’ meet the fellas ta get somethin’ from the nuns._

With a weary twitch of his lips that almost passed as a grin, Da walked over and knelt down in front of him. “Every newsie needs a hat.” he said softly before pulling off his well-worn cap and plopped it on Jack’s head. It, like his boots, was too big and fell down over his eyes. Jack laughed and pushed it back on his head.

“Thanks, Da!”

“Do me proud, Jackie.” Da said.

“I will.” Jack stared at Da’s face, smiling broadly. Da almost smiled back. The moment was ended by the faint ringing of a church bell.

“Better get going, boy.” Da said as he stood up. “Don’t wanna keep yer friends waitin’.”

“A’ight, see you tonight!” Jack called over his shoulder as he rushed out the door.

 

* * *

 

After a long day riding around on Freckles’ shoulders selling today's paper, Jack was left with a pocketful of coins, a smile on his face, and very _very_ sore feet. “You’se a natural, kid!” Freckles laughed as Jack scampered back to him after convincing a lady that he was a desperately ill orphan raising money to help his even sicker little sister and would she please buy his last paper?  “Wit’ your face and my brains, we’se gonna make millions!”

“Hey! I’se got brains too!” Jack cried indignantly as Freckles continued to laugh.

“Sure ya do Jackie, sure ya do. Wit’ ya four whole years’ life experience an’ everythin’.”

“I ain’t four, I’se seven!” Jack cried, smacking Freckles with his empty paper bag.

“Ooooo, seven. Me humblest apologies, sir.” Freckles shoved Jack’s overly large cap down over his eyes. Before Jack could come back with his retort, they rounded the corner and were met with two other newsies. “Hiya, Blue!” Freckles cried, slinging his arm around the Manhattan leader’s shoulders while simultaneously snatching his hat.

“Give it back, Freckles.” Blue sighed, pushing the smaller boy away. Freckles was the only one who could get away with harassing Blue as much as he did. The two had been like brothers since they were younger than Jack. Tagging along with Blue was the newest boy to the Lodging house.

“Specs!” Jack smiled as he noticed the bespectacled boy. Even though he was younger than Jack by an entire year, Specs was already quite a few inches taller. Jack tried to not let that bother him. Too much. “How’d ya do today?”

“Ya gotta tell me, kid. Does Blue actually hawk the headlines, or do he just stare people down until they feel like they’se gotta buy a pape or else face the wrath of Blue the Terrible?” Freckles asked as he continued to avoid Blue’s attempts at reclaiming his hat.

“If I told ya, I’d have to kill ya.” Specs smiled as he snatched Blue’s hat from Freckles’ unsuspecting grasp and tossed it back to the Manhattan leader. Blue jammed his hat back on his head with a wink to Specs before turning back to Freckles.

“You better watch it, Freckles. I might just decide to replace you wit’ this kid as second. Sure listens a whole lot better than you.”

“Come on now, ya know ya couldn’ survive wit’out me.” Freckles said with a cocky grin.

“A’ight, prove it. You think you can handle getting’ Specs back to the lodging house wit’out gettin’ into any trouble?” Blue tilted his head to the side, a small grin twitching at his lips. “I’ll be back soon. Come on, Jackie. It’s gettin’ dark out. Let’s get you home.” Blue began walking in the direction of Jack’s street, ignoring Freckles’ dramatic groans of protest.

“Blue, I’se seven years old. I can walk home by myself.” Jack huffed as he jogged to catch up with the older boy.

“Maybe so.” Blue responded as he reached down to swing Jack up onto his back. “But seeing as it’s my responsibility to make sure you’se safe, I’se gonna walk you home anyway.”

The two walked in silence for a bit before Blue spoke. “Your Da been treatin’ you ok, Jackie?” He asked. “You been gettin’ enough to eat?”

“I’se fine, Blue.” Jack said firmly as he leaned his head against Blue’s shoulder, enjoying taking the weight off of his sore feet.

“You’se feelin’ a little skinny, kid.” Blue pressed. “You wanna stop and get somethin’?”

“Nah, I’se ok.” Jack said quickly. “I wanna show Da just how much I made today.”

“And how much is that?” Blue asked.

“A whole dolla!” Jack said proudly. “Freckles says I’se a natural.”

“Good job, kid.” Blue smiled. “Keep it up. Anythin’ else interestin’ happen today?”

They continued their friendly banter all the way to Jack’s front door. Jack almost didn’t want to get down off of Blue’s back, but the prospect of maybe making his Da smile got Jack to slide to the ground.

“See you tomorrow?” Blue asked as Jack walked up to his door.

“Of course!” Jack waved. “Tell Freckles I said bye. And ask if Specs wants to get lunch tomorrow.”

“Will do, Jackie. Now get goin’.”

 

* * *

 

“Da?” Jack called, closing the door behind him. “I’se home.” The silence that followed wasn’t unusual as he often got home first. Jack knew that his dad worked late a lot, so he slipped his boots off and set them next to the door.

Their apartment was incredibly small and run down, but Jack did his best to keep it as clean as he could. Da wasn’t home very much and when he was he slept a lot. Jack half-heartedly checked the cabinet for anything to eat, even though he knew it was going to still be empty.

 _Even though Da said he’d take care of it._ Jack thought with a scowl. _At least I’se not disappointed._ Jack forced the lopsided drawer open anyway. Empty, just as he suspected. _I should’a grabbed somethin’ on the way home like Blue said._ With a sigh, Jack turned to the loose floorboard next to the cabinet. It was under the floorboard that they kept all their money, and Jack was excited to add his earnings to the stash. The whole dollar he had earned was the most he had ever brought home, and he couldn’t wait to tell Da. Working his fingers into the wood, Jack pulled up the board with a grunt then froze. The space was empty.

Puzzled, Jack continued to stare, unable to process what he was looking at. _Maybe Da needed it for somethin’._ A feeling of unease settled in the pit of Jack’s stomach in spite of his less than convincing reasoning, and as he slid the board back into place another nasty thought crept into his mind. _What if he left? Jus’ up an’ left wit’out tellin’ me. Just like Ma did…_ Jack searched his memory of the last few weeks, frantic to see if there had been any sort of sign to explain his dad’s absence.

He hadn’t been gone any more than usual, and he had even mussed up Jack’s hair on his way out the door this morning. _“Do me proud, Jackie.”_ He’d said. No different than any other morning.

 _He jus’ needed the money for somethin’._ Jack thought firmly as he pushed himself up off the floor and made his way over to the pile of blankets in the corner that served as his bed. _He wouldn’t do that to me._ _Not after Ma._ _Da’ll be back in the mornin’ wit’ some crazy story ‘bout where he’s been._ As Jack settled into his nest with a sleepy sigh, he pushed all thoughts about his dad out of his head for the night. Instead, he drifted off thinking about the sky and the stars and what Freckles was going to show him about the city tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

 Jack woke up to a cold and empty room. _Guess Da left already._ He thought forlornly as he glanced around, noticing that everything was exactly as he had left it the night before. _Wonder why he didn’ wake me up?_ With a tired groan, Jack stretched and rolled to the floor. _Maybe…maybe he didn’ come home at all._

Now this wasn’t completely unusual either. Da did occasionally stay out for days at a time. _He jus’ usually tells me before he does that. Especially since Ma left._ Jack was pulled out of his musing by a particularly loud growl from his stomach.

 _Maybe he left somethin’ for breakfast before he left._ Jack thought hopefully as he stood up and walked over to the small cabinet. He eagerly tugged the drawer open only to be met with emptiness. _An’ there’s still nothin’._ Jack thought bitterly. _If I hurry, I can prob’ly catch the nuns wit’ the rest’a the fellas._ Jack scrambled back over to his bed, jammed his cap over his untidy hair, shoved his boots on his feet and bolted out the door, taking care to close it firmly behind him. Da would be furious to come home to an open door.

 

* * *

 

The apartment was empty when he got home that night.

And it was still empty the next morning.

And the following night.

On the fourth morning of waking up alone, Jack decided to stay home from selling just in case his Da was coming home while he was out.

Da didn’t come home that day.

Or the next.  

Or the next.

Hunger finally drove Jack to leave the building and dash to the nearest deli to spend as little as he could on a small meal. He still really wanted to show Da just how good he had gotten at selling papes. _I hope he’ll believe me when I tell ‘im I had a whole dolla’._ Jack thought as he practically inhaled the cheapest sandwich he could find. The deli owner gave Jack a small nod as he crammed the last bite into his mouth before bolting back out the door. _I hope Da didn’ stop in while I was gone._

When he reached the door of his apartment, Jack froze at the sight of a strange man in a dark suit standing in the middle of his apartment. “Who’re you?” he said loudly, drawing the man’s attention. “What’re you doin’ in here?” Jack stood up straighter, trying to make himself seem older and more intimidating.

“Scram, brat.” the man said harshly, turning back to what he had been doing. With a jolt of horror, Jack realized that the man was packing up the meager contents of the room into several boxes scattered at his feet.

“Hey!” Jack cried. “That ain’t yours!” _What’s goin’ on? Where’s Da?_

“The rent hasn’t been paid in over a month.” the man bit back, not even pausing what he was doing. “It most certainly is mine now.”

Jack felt tears of frustration spring to his eyes and he angrily wiped them away. “But-”

“Now beat it before I call the police.” the man cut him off sharply.

If there was one thing that Da had made sure that Jack understood was that the cops were not his friend and were to be avoided at all costs. The newsies had only solidified this belief. _But what am I s’posed to do? Where am I s’posed to go?_ Jack took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and said, “My Da should be back any-”

The man didn’t hesitate to swing around and fling an empty bottle of Da’s right at Jack’s head. Luckily Jack’s reflexes were good enough that he dodged the initial hit, but the glass shattered against the doorframe and bounced back at his head, slicing into his cheek and temple.

“I don’t give two shits about you or your Da.” the man growled. “He hasn’t paid rent. You don’t live here anymore. Get out.”

Jack could only stand there in shock, blood dripping sluggishly down his face. He found he couldn’t work up the energy to wipe it away. His ears were filling with a high-pitched buzzing and everything suddenly felt so cold even though it was only late September.

“Do I need to repeat myself?” The man took a threatening step towards Jack, another bottle clenched tightly in his hand. That was enough to snap Jack into action and he bolted out of the room.

 _What do I do now?_ Jack though helplessly as he ran out of the building. _All a’ the money I made was in there._ Jack briefly considered sneaking back into the building if he saw the man leave. _There’s no way he woulda’ seen the loose floorboard._ But then Jack’s cheek gave a nasty throb and he reached up with a wince. Maybe he didn’t need to stay so close to the building after all. Especially with the threat of more bottles.

 _Blue. Blue’ll know what to do._ Jack thought as he took off down the street. Only having been to the lodging house once or twice before, he kept his eyes peeled for any familiar newsies that might take him to his friend. _It’s prob’ly too late._ Jack realized after a bit of wandering. He hadn’t noticed how dark it had gotten until suddenly the street lamps were lit. It was then that Jack really took in his surroundings and his stomach sank when he didn’t recognize any of it. _I ain’t gonna be able to find no one now._

With a resigned sigh, Jack tucked himself up against a few boxes he found in a nearby alley and prepared to spend the night. He was no stranger to sleeping on the street, he’d just never done it alone before. _Whereva’ Da is, I hope he’s unhappy too._ Jack grumbled as he tried to make himself comfortable on the hard ground.

“What are you doing here, boy?” Jack’s eyes snapped open to find someone leaning over him. “Did you hear me?” Jack shrunk back from the man speaking to him. He was older than Da, dark hair greying at the temples and face harshly lined.

“None a’ your business.” Jack frowned. _Jus’ leave me alone_.

“Are you lost?” the man pressed. “Because you can’t be here.”

“I’se waitin’ for Da.” Jack finally sighed, just wanting this man to leave him to mope in peace. _Why’se such a fancy suit payin’ me any attention?_

“Well as it just so happens, your father sent me to bring you to him. He got held up at work.” Jack perked up, turning his full attention to the man.

“An’ how do you know that?” he asked, still not trusting himself to get his hopes up.

“I work with your father. He’s very worried about you, and he’s so sorry he can’t be here himself.” Jack looked at the man’s nice suit, clean hands, and shiny shoes.

“You sure don’ look like you works wit’ Da.” Jack settled more firmly into the side of the crate. “I should prob’ly stay here. Just in case.” Jack sniffed and wiped at some of the blood that had crusted along the side of his face. It had started to itch and Jack wanted nothing more than to go to sleep and forget the disaster of a day he just had.

“Come on, we’ll get those looked at.” The man pushed, reaching down to offer Jack a hand. “I’m sure you’d much rather spend the night inside somewhere rather than on this dingy street corner.”

“I’se fine. Really.”

“Boy, if you stay here the police will arrest you for trespassing.” The man said shortly. “Come on. I know of a place not far from here where you can wait for your father.”

The mention of police made Jack’s breath catch in his chest. _He’s prob’ly right._ “I guess.” Jack shrugged and stood up, ignoring the man’s hand. _Maybe bein’ inside is better. An’ I can always leave in the mornin’._

“Good choice.” The man said. “Right this way then. We’ll see if we can find you a bed for the night.”

“Who’re you ‘xactly?” Jack asked as he followed the man around the corner. _Maybe he knew where the lodging house was. Maybe that was the place he was talkin’ about._

“Oh, did I not say? I’m Mr. Snyder.”

 

* * *

 

 Jack didn’t know how long he followed Mr. Snyder down the rapidly darkening city streets. All he knew was that his feet still hurt, his cheek still stung, and it was getting increasingly harder to keep his eyes from slipping closed. _Didn’ he say not far from here?_ Jack fought to stifle yet another yawn. Just when he thought he couldn’t drag himself one more step, Mr. Snyder stopped.

“Here we are.” He said, then began to walk up the steps of a large stone building. Right away, the very feeling of this place set Jack’s teeth on edge, and he eyed the dingy building with an unease he couldn’t explain.

“Is this where you work?” he asked as he cautiously followed Mr, Snyder up the stairs and through the front door..

“This is more of a charity I like to run in my free time.”

Mr. Snyder opened a fancy door and ushered Jack into an even fancier office. Jack couldn’t help but freeze as he took in the richly carpeted floor, panelled walls, heavy wooden desk, and plush office chair. This was by far the richest looking place Jack had ever stepped foot in.

“Sit.” Mr. Snyder said, gesturing to the straight-backed wooden chair on the other side of the desk. Jack carefully lowered himself into the chair as Mr. Snyder took a seat behind the desk.

“So, where’s Da?” Jack asked, looking around the room.

“Name?” Mr. Snyder asked, ignoring Jack’s question much to his annoyance.

“Why’se it matter?” Jack asked, trying not to let his irritation show.

“So that when your father comes to get you, I’ll be able to tell him exactly where you are.” Mr. Snyder’s tone caused Jack to quickly return his focus to the man’s face. While his words had meant to come across as comforting, his face looked hard and dark which caused Jack to answer.

“Jack Kelly.”

“Age?”

“I’se 7.” Jack fidgeted in the hard chair. Something about the way Mr. Snyder was looking at him was starting to make his stomach churn. His eyes reminded Jack of a man he and Blue had encountered one night on their way to his apartment.

 _Hey, pretty boy_ . The man had slurred, grabbing at Blue's arm. _You sellin’ anythin’ 'sides papes?_ Blue had gone stone-faced and pale, ripping his arm out of the man's grasp and dragging Jack across the street as quickly as he could.

“Alright, sign your name here.” Mr. Snyder said after an uncomfortable silence and placed a pencil on the desk next to the book he had just been writing in. “Do you even know how to write?”

“Course I do.” Jack bristled. “I ain’t stupid.” A cold fire ignited in Mr. Snyder’s eyes at Jack’s words, causing him to shrink back slightly.

“You would be wise to not talk back to your elders, boy.” Mr. Snyder continued to stare at Jack. “Now sign your name in the book.”

Slowly, Jack inched forward and slid the pencil off the table, finally taking his eyes off of Mr. Snyder and looked down to see what he had written.

“What’s loitering mean?” Jack asked, struggling to decipher the squiggly handwriting.

“It means you need to stop asking so many damn questions and do as you're told.”

Mr. Snyder's dark growl caused Jack to tense up and snap, “I'll ask as many damn questions as I wants.”

Mr. Snyder was on him before he could blink. He lunged across the desk, grabbed Jack by the back of his neck and slammed his face into the desk. Startled by the sudden violence, Jack didn't even register the pain as he struggled against Mr. Snyder’s iron grip. “You should learn very quickly that my word is law here.” Mr. Snyder said. After a moment of silence, Jack was released from Mr. Snyder’s punishing grip and shoved away from the desk.

Jack stumbled backwards, bringing his hand up to touch his throbbing cheek. _He’s crazy_ , Jack thought wildly, eyes darting towards the door. _I’se pretty quick. I can outrun ‘im._

As if he had read his mind, Mr. Snyder stood up and called, “Frank! We’re through here.” A large guard appeared behind Jack and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck.

“Where do you want him?” the man who must have been Frank asked, giving Jack a rough shake.

“Take him to room 3 please. And make sure the door is locked properly. This one is going to be trouble.”

Before Jack had a chance to respond, Frank dragged him out of the room and began moving down the hallway. Jack was barely able to keep up, stumbling along beside the guard and trying his best not to fall. “Where’re you takin’ me?” Jack asked frantically as he tried to look around at the hallway he was being pulled through.

“Walk.” the guard, Frank, snapped then shoved Jack towards a rickety wooden staircase. Given no other choice, Jack made his way up the stairs to the next floor which was another long dim hallway lined with heavy locked doors. Frank grabbed a hold of Jack’s arm and yanked him over to one of the doors that had a dull metal 3 on it.

“Wait, I don’-” Jack tried one last time, desperate to reason with the man. Frank silenced him with a harsh shake as he unlocked the door with an ominous click. Without another word, Frank threw Jack into the room and slammed the door behind him with a final thud.

Jack threw out his hands to break his fall, wincing as splinters from the rough floor bit into his palms. _A right mess you’se gotten yourself into._ Jack thought darkly as he drug himself to his feet and looked around at his new surroundings.

There were at least 10 bunk beds crammed into the tiny room, and only one small barred window on the opposite wall that barely let in any sort of light. The grimy stone walls looked like they hadn’t seen soap in about a hundred years. Cobwebs clogged the ceiling and corners, and Jack heard the faint scuffle and squeak of rats moving around in the shadows. _Ok._ Jack thought shakily. _You’se stayed in worse places before. You just gotta breathe like Blue taught you. Stay calm. Look at what’s around you._

It was then that he noticed there were already between three and five kids on each bunk bed, and as Jack looked around warily, he realized that every eye in the room was focused on him.

“We ain’t got room for yer ass anywhere in here, rat.” A big boy with a wicked looking scar across his forehead spit out as he unfolded himself from the bottom bunk nearest to the door.

“Ummm.” Jack didn’t know what to say. _It’s not my fault I’se in here. I don’ wanna be here anymore than you._

“You’se gonna learn real quick in here to respect yer elders.” the boy continued. Jack suppressed a shudder as an echo of Snyder’s voice drifted through his head.

“You’se not the boss a’ me.” Jack spit out stubbornly, pushing Snyder’s words away with a shake of his head.

“Excuse me?” the boy growled as he took a menacing step towards Jack, fist raised.

 _Feet apart, fists eye level, aim for the stomach._ Jack frantically recalled what Blue had taught him as he braced himself for the blow he was sure was coming.

“Oh fuck off, Rex.” a new voice called out from the shadows, halting the boy in his tracks.

“You talkin’ to me?” Rex said, spinning to face the speaker. Another boy from a bottom bunk across the room tilted his head with a cocky grin.

“Unless ya changed ya name since the last I checked, yeah I is.” Jack stifled a snort as Rex sputtered. “C’mon, kid. We can make room ova’ here.” Jack didn’t hesitate for a second. Being careful not to take his eyes off of Rex, he made a beeline for the bunk under the window. The boy sitting up against the wall jerked his head towards the empty spot at the foot of the bed, and Jack lowered himself down gratefully, being careful to avoid the two other boys who were fast asleep.

“Name?”

“Jack. You?”

“Buckeye.” the boy said shortly. “Well Jack, welcome to the Refuge.”

 

* * *

 

Jack spent almost a week getting shoved around by both other boys and guards alike. Buckeye’s kindness, it seemed, didn’t extend outside of the bunk room, and Jack was left to fend for himself any time they were herded out into other areas of the building for their infrequent meals or mundane chores that Snyder forced them to do.

The aching hunger he was used to. The dirt and the rats he was used to. What he wasn’t used to was the seemingly endless amount of kids that were forced to live together in the impossibly tiny rooms with not nearly enough space to do so. He also wasn’t used to just how brutal other kids could be to each other. Jack was small and young which unfortunately made him an easy target for the older boys. Rex had been one of the first to pound him into the ground the minute he had received his first bowl of watery soup. After that, Jack learned very quickly how to inhale what little food he was given as soon as he got it.

Another lesson Jack picked up on was how to stay out of sight and out of mind. The constant fear of getting hauled off to Snyder’s office for a ‘rehabilitation session’ left Jack jittery and on edge. He saw what kids looked like after one of those, all trembling and crying and covered in blood and bruises. The cuts on his forehead and temple had scabbed over, and his cheek still ached from where Snyder had slammed him into his desk. He had no desire to see the man any time soon.

The only thing that Jack held onto, the only thing that was keeping him sane in this hell was the knowledge that Da was going to come for him. _There’s no way he’d leave me here._ He repeated every morning when he was roughly awoken by guards screaming and yelling for them to get their lazy asses out of bed.

 _Da’s comin’ for me._ He thought every time he burned his hands in the buckets of undiluted bleach they were given to scrub the floors.

 _He wouldn’t leave me here_. It was the last thing he ran through his mind at night, curled up into the smallest corner of the bunk he shared with Buckeye and 2 other boys.

 _Da’ll be here in the mornin’._ It’s what he used to get back to sleep when the whimpers and screams of the other boys woke him up in the middle of the night. But Jack’s mind could only hold it together for so long.

_Da’s not comin’. I need to get outta here._

Jack knew the front door was kept locked at all times. He found this out when one of the other boys attempted to yank it open. The guards were on him in a minute and Jack hadn’t seen the boy since, but his screams as the guards dragged him towards the office still haunted Jack’s dreams.

But Jack was observant. The door wasn’t always locked. One guard that all the boys called Wheezy couldn’t go more than an hour without stepping out the front door for a smoke. He never completely closed the door behind him either, instead choosing to leave it slightly ajar so that he could avoid the hassle of unlocking and relocking it multiple times.

So on one particular day when they were all being made to scrub the floors of the main hall, Jack kept a careful eye on Wheezy. They were always watched by at least 3 guards and Wheezy always stood by the door. _So the lazy bastard don’t hafta walk any further._ They had been at their task since early that morning and just when Jack didn’t think his hands could take being dunked in bleach one more time, he noticed Wheezy patting at his pocket.

 _This is it._ Jack inched himself away from the small spot of floor he had been scrubbing for the past ten minutes, dodging a vicious kick from Rex in the process. Wheezy checked his watch and kicked the boy closest to the door several feet away before pulling out his keys and cigarettes. Jack held his breath as he watched the guard unlock the door and step outside. _Maybe he’ll lock it behind ‘im this time._ But luck was on his side, and Wheezy simply pulled the door shut just like he always did.

 _This is my chance._ Jack casually scrubbed his way over towards the front door, being sure to keep the other guards at the edge of his vision. They seemed distracted enough, harassing another kid who had just spilled a little too much bleach on the floor. Slowly, painfully, Jack crept closer and closer, heart threatening to beat right out of his chest.

Finally, he was there. The only thing separating him from his freedom was an unlocked door. With one final glance over his shoulder, Jack leapt to his feet, wrenched the door open, and started running as fast as he could. Wheezy, who had been sitting on the top step, dropped his cigarette in surprise. “Hey, you little shit! Stop!” Jack hadn’t expected Wheezy to be so close to the door, and he certainly didn’t expect him to be able to run as fast as he was now.

 _No no no oh god no._ Jack’s panic was almost choking as he careened through the streets, not caring that every person he passed seemed to be staring. _Help me please, somebody make ‘em stop chasin’ me._ Jack could hear the guard’s pounding footsteps and rasping breath getting ever closer behind him.

“When I get my hands on you, you’d better believe you’re gonna be sorry!” the guard roared.

Reaching for energy he didn’t even know he had left, Jack put on a desperate burst of speed and managed to get ahead of the guard around the next corner. Gasping for breath, Jack looked around wildly for a place to hide. His eyes finally landed on the mouth of a small alley and the many boxes that filled it. Without a moment’s hesitation, Jack dashed into the alley and squeezed himself into the smallest ball possible between the wall and a particularly large crate.

Clapping both of his hands over his mouth to stifle his ragged breathing, Jack sat wide eyed and motionless. _Was I fast enough? Did ‘e see me? Oh god, he’s gonna hear my heart it’s beatin’ so loud._ Jack felt like he was going to pass out from a combination of lack of oxygen and panic.

_What am I gonna do? Where am I gonna go?_

Jack stayed frozen in the alley until his legs cramped and his thundering heart finally slowed enough for him to hear the sound drifting out of the building he was hiding behind.

_High times, hard times,_

_Sometimes the living is sweet._

_And sometimes there's nothing to eat._

_But I always land on my feet._

Despite the mind numbing terror fogging his brain, Jack couldn’t help but relax at the sound of the pretty singing. _Ma had a pretty voice too._ Jack thought wistfully as he let his eyes slip closed for a moment. _Maybe I can just rest here for a bit. Then I’ll think a’ somethin’._

 

* * *

 

Medda sighed as she stepped out into the alley behind the theatre and pulled the rickety old door closed behind her. _I’ll only be a minute,_ she had said. _Just going out to get some air._ In reality, rehearsal wasn’t going as well as she had hoped. The paint for the new backdrop hadn’t arrived, she was short a stagehand, audience attendance was declining, and to top it all off she had just gotten a huge run in her tights. _What have you gotten yourself into, Medda Larkin?_ She thought with a roll of her eyes. She was just about to return to her rehearsal when she heard a scrabbling crash from the other side of a stack of crates followed by a small squeak that definitely wasn’t from one of the resident alley rats.

“Who’s there?” Medda called out as she moved towards the source of the noise. The last time she had heard someone out behind her theatre, it had turned out to be some disgusting pervert spying on her girls changing and she was not going to have a repeat of that, thank you very much.

“I swear if there’s someone back here trying to get a look at my girls, so help me I’ll – oh!” Medda’s voice caught in her throat when her eyes landed on a boy wedged between the boxes and the wall of the alley.

He was a tiny little thing with wide green eyes that darted around like a trapped animal. As soon as he realized he’d been spotted, he locked eyes with Medda and froze.

“Well what do we have here?” the boy flinched at the sound of her voice, pushing back further into the wall. “Hey sweetie, no need to be scared of Miss Medda.” She crouched down near the boy, not too close as to make him feel trapped and not caring that her costume was trailing in the alley muck. Upon closer inspection, Medda could see a nasty bruise peeking out from under the grime on the kid’s left cheek and her heart sank.

“What’s your name, baby?” she said softly, not wanting to scare the boy away.

“Jack. Jack Kelly.” The boy whispered after a moment, eyes never leaving her face. “M sorry if I’se trespassin’ or anythin’. The singin’ was just real pretty an’ I didn’…” he trailed off, mouth snapping shut. “I’se sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about, baby. You ain’t hurting no one.” At those words, some of the tension in Jack’s shoulders disappeared and he crept out of his hiding place, still eyeing Medda warily.

“Ain’t you one of Blue’s boys?” Medda said suddenly as more light hit the boy’s face. Yes, she was sure of it. She recognized little Jack Kelly as one of the newsies from Duane Street that followed Freckles and Blue around the city, hawking hilariously exaggerated headlines to the unsuspecting passers-by. The boy always followed around the older newsies like an excited puppy, always curious and wanting to learn everything there was to know about the city.

“Yeah.” Jack said, a smile starting to grow on his face. “I’se been wit’ the newsies for two years now. Da says I’se old enough to …to…” Jack’s face wrinkled up as he struggled to remember, “Pull my weight.” Jack grinned, proud of his ability to remember his father’s words. “And ‘sides, Freckles says I’se a natural.”

Medda couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “Well with that adorable face, I’ll bet you are.”

There was a sudden commotion at the mouth of the alley as a cop rushed by, shouting at something just out of sight. The effect on Jack was instantaneous. The boy paled and with a small intake of breath, hid himself behind Medda’s skirts.

“Is someone after you, baby?” she asked, regretting the question immediately when Jack tensed up and pulled away from her.

“I dunno.” Jack said quietly, wringing his hands. “It was dark an’ it smelled funny, an’ there was rats all over the place.” Medda felt her eyes growing wider as Jack continued to talk. “He never said I couldn’t leave. There was so many kids there. Too many, an’ I thought I’d just go home.” Jack raised his eyes to look at her pleadingly. “I don’ know why they’se after me. I didn’t do nothing.”

Medda sat there in silence, letting the implication of the boy’s words wash over her. More than once she had patched up a newsie after their release from the Refuge. It was always ugly business, and seeing the terror in those boys’ eyes every time someone made a move to touch them broke her heart. It was a wicked place that should be burned to the ground with that evil Snyder inside of it. And she would be damned if she had to watch that place take this little boy’s spirit next. “Who brought you to that place?” Medda asked gently, watching Jack’s reaction. “Did he tell you his name?” Jack remained silent. “Was his name Mr. Snyder?” The boy immediately recoiled further away from her with a small whimper, shaking his head frantically. After a moment of terrible silence in which Medda berated herself for frightening the child again, Jack whispered,

“I think Da’s dead.”

Caught off guard by the abrupt and obvious change of subject, Medda cautiously reached out a hand to the boy, waiting for him to make the next move. “I’m so sorry to hear that, baby.” She chose to ignore Jack’s noticeable attempt at avoiding her question as he carefully moved towards her hand and allowed her to gently touch his uninjured cheek.

“Why don’t you come join me inside? I’ll bet you’ve never been in a theatre before. I can show you all around so that way you don’t need to be catching the show from the back alley.” Medda said with a small smile. “And then when you feel up to it, you can head back to your boys. How’s that sound?” After a moment’s hesitation Jack nodded, the smile returning to his face.

“That sounds real nice, Miss Medda.”

Without thinking, Medda reached down to take Jack’s hand, remembering too late that this action could very well startle the boy yet again. Medda was thrilled when Jack took her hand carefully and stood up from his position behind the crate. Deciding to push her luck, Medda scooped Jack into her arms and settled him against her hip. He was only tense for a moment before he practically melted into her shoulder with a tiny sigh.

“Alright Jack, welcome to my theatre.” she said proudly before she stepped back through the stage door. Medda watched the boy’s eyes light up as he took in all the lights, sets, actors and sounds, and she felt her heart warm through the chill of the awful day. “Don’t you worry, baby. You’re with Medda now.”

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So I've never posted anything I've written anywhere. Like, ever. So I hope this wasn't toooo terrible. I've got 6 parts total mapped out, so we'll see how that goes. Questions, comments, concerns are welcomed. Thanks so much for your time!


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